Art of Music Night 2: Uzbekistan and Mongolia

A week after opening night, we had our second event. This time we had Elephants with Guns perform a concert. The turn out at the Levantine Cultural Center was again amazing, and I shared stories of traveling through Uzbekistan and Mongolia. Jorge "Tyme" Martinez had put together some beautiful artwork for the Elephants. The t-shirt designs were amazing and everyone wanted one. It was so much fun meeting people and connecting to their stories as well as sharing some of the experience I had as a way of connecting people in LA to the people across the world in Uzbekistan and Mongolia.We even celebrated Jorge's and Medha's birthdays with more cake of course! 

Alvaro and Michael

We made some great friends name Alvaro (from Spain) and Michael (from France) at the guest house then head out to check out some of the amazing galleries. I took photos where I could. There was an impressive variety of inspiring art. It felt good to take things a bit easier after all the nonstop travel.

Chor Bakar

We walked over to a sort of Bokhari museum, then through an amusement park, looked at the remains of the city walls and then grabbed a bus to Chor Bakar where 4 descendents of Hazrat Abu Bakar are buried. The book mistakenly says that it is Hazrat Abu Bakar himself buried there, but in reality it is 4 of his descendents. There was beautiful tilework and a mosque there besides the graves.

Mubinjan

The next day we put on a short performance for the people at the guesthouse. We had a great time with the owner and her family, eating and talking the night before and they had requested that we play some for the owner's sister's birthday. We gladly did so, after a nice breakfast and then hopped on a train to Bukhara. It was still not too late once we got to Bukhara, so we found a place to stay in a simple, but beautiful old home owned by an old man named Mubinjan. We met some of the other guests and it turned out they were cooking Pilov together that night with Mubinjan. They were all travellers from different countries as well. We were graciously invited. We had limited time there so we wanted to quickly head out to see the city, but decided that we would look for some good dessert to bring back.Omar and I left our things there and head out, walking through beautiful restored Zikr khanas, mosques, tombs, caravansaras etc, but all had been transformed into giftshops. So while the original purpose of these sites had been lost, they did manage to keep the high caliber of workmanship and crafts alive through these shops. There were beautiful handicrafts, pottery, puppets, paintings, calligraphy, woodwork etc. It was all really amazing and of a very high quality. These may have been souvenir shops, but the crafts they sold were not junk like I had seen in some places. It was actually a lot of fun to look at all the beautiful work that people had on display. Besides that, we were walking through all kinds of beautiful architecture. Most of the sites in Bukhara were closer together and very near where we were staying, so we managed to see a good majority of it before making a last ditch effort to find some dessert to take back, having failed to find any traditional sweets. We walked around looking for halwa or baklava for quite a while, following all kinds of directions until we were led to a home where we met a family who were really excited to have us read the script written on a tape of a famous Afghan musician, which we did. They offered to make us halwa the next day, but there was nothing today, so instead their son showed us the way to a general store where we could buy chocolate cake.There, Omar and I bought a tray of assorted chocolate cake slices and walked back to the guest house. Everyone else had eaten and was sitting around enjoying some conversation by the time we returned. We presented the cake, and it was put to one side as they made room for a spread of food for us. The pilov was delicious. Lamb, rice, carrots, cooked to where each morsel of rice was rich with flavor. There were backpackers from France, Russia, Italy etc all sitting around a table talking and laughing and enjoying the very charismatic Mubinjan's stories as translated by Sergei, who was from Russia. Mubinjan did not speak English, but he knew a handful of words and used so much expression, body language and sounds to tell stories that captivated us all. There was a real sense that the coming together of this group of people was a special and sweet occasion. This was not a man out to make as much money as possible. He enjoyed being around giving people and enjoyed giving to all of us as well. Our experiences at other hostels or guest houses varied. There were places we made friends and places we did not, but none was like this where the owner and all the guests sat together in such warmth. I felt like we were really a part of something rare and special even for that place and it seemed everyone else did too.We talked and laughed late into the night, before everyone turned in.

Bukhari, Gulmeera and the kids

The next day, Omar and I decided to head outside of town to the tomb of Ismail Bukhari; a well known Muslim scholar credited with the most reliable compilation of the Prophet Muhammad's sayings and examples from his life (hadith).

The guide book got us to the general area where we were supposed to get a bus to the tomb. Once there it took a bit of asking and waiting and some false leads, before a very helpful boy at a general store in the area made it his purpose to get us a fair price on a minibus (mashrutka) headed to our destination. Omar and I were very grateful for the help. At last we were on our way.In front of us sat a woman with two small children. We didn't have a common language, but somehow we all became friends. She told us about how she was also going to the tomb to pray for her son who I believe had health issues while growing up. He seemed fine now, but she was going to make a prayer for his health. We all got off at the same stop, outside the tomb. The woman's name was Gul Meera and she was only a year older than me, with her sons Islam and Ismail. She had so much personality and she was so much fun, joking with us and really just willing to put in the effort to communicate with the two of us who did not speak her language. I decided in my mind that I wanted to see the tomb, but I wanted to do so with our new friends.

We walked in and had our photo taken by a guy in the courtyard. We would pick up prints later. After that, Omar asked where we could perform wadu (washing before prayer). We head over there, with Gulmeera and the kids in tow. They waited while we prepared for Namaz (prayer). Omar and I finally came out and all of us walked over to the mosque in the complex. Gulmeera held on to the little one, while Islam, Omar and I went in to pray. We stood side by side and prayed. I could see Islam out of the corner of my eye copying us, but not knowing how to say Muslim prayers. Gulmeera had mentioned that she had learned to read some Arabic when she was very young, but did not really know how to all that much. She was like many who identified very closely to Islam, but did not really know the rituals and practices, due to years under Soviet rule when all of that was forced underground and taken from people.

Omar went on to pray with the jamaat (group prayer) as it started and I stuck around with Islam and had him repeat a surat (passage from the Quran) after me. Then I taught him a few simple things and prayed some more with him following. My point wasn't to teach him religion, but just seeing him trying to participate, I wanted to take some time out and help him participate. That made it fun for me too, just so he need not feel like an outsider.

He was a really nice kid. Again, we had no common language, but gestures and a few words and sounds seemed to work well enough. He too was very patient and just a really nice kid, so it felt good to try and share something with him.

Afterwards, the three of us stepped out into the courtyard and continued around it with Gulmeera and tiny tot Ismail. He looked very serious, but was just about the cutest kid ever.

We walked around, admiring how beautiful the tile work and architecture was. Ismail Bukhari's mazaar had a very different feel than the former mosques and former places of Islamic learning that were now just empty tourist sites. This was a place still serving its intended purpose. People still remembered this man and came to pay their respects and say prayers. All of that made for a much more beautiful experience.

The work around the tomb itself was particularly stunning. After walking all the way around, we walked through a museuem of Qurans and gifts from visiting dignitaries. Gulmeera and I read some arabic together. She smiled a lot and it really felt to me like I was hanging out with a sister and nephews rather than some strangers. The kids were very sweet and we took turns holding a bag, and keeping our water bottles etc in it as I would with someone I had known for years or my own family.

We got the prints from the photographer and then walked out to catch the bus.

Gulmeera invited us to eat lunch at her home and I was very tempted, just to spend more time with these wonderful people. We also wanted to see some other important sites though, and we were limited on time, so we told her we wanted to go to the Prophet Daniel's tomb also. A part of me hesitated, because I knew it would be an ordeal to figure out how to get to it, but when else would I be there. Gulmeera just smiled and said sure, we'll go there too. She negotiated with the bus driver to take us there once the other passengers had left.

We went there, walked up the hill and spent some time in the tomb, drank some holy water and just enjoyed being there. Legend has it that the Prophet's body grows every year and so they enlarge the tomb every so often. Afterwards we head to a bazaar, and walked around until we found a spot to eat. We walked around some neighborhoods looking for the Jewish quarter, happened upon some interesting buildings that may have been a part of it and then walked back to the bazaar. The whole time, Gulmeera and the kids were happily along for the adventure. Islam was borrowing my camera and taking photos, I was hangin' with Ismail and it was some of the most fun I had on the trip.

Back in the bazaar we walked around and found a place to eat. We played some music, ate some food, laughed, ate some more and then walked outside where we soon parted ways, all of us a bit sad at leaving.

Omar and I made our way back to the art place where we had met some painters the day before. We had promised to try and return with some music and I was supposed to check out one budding animaters drawings. So we came in with Omar's drumb, got some people out, including many passerbyes and played some songs. I met up with the boy and he gave me a photocopy with a bunch of drawings. He was obviously talented and it was fun to see his work.

From there we head back to the guest house where we played music some more for the owner and her family before going to bed.

Samarkand

The next morning, we said goodbye to Simone and head to the train station to go to Samarkand. We met a guy while we were waiting, who kept miming that he had been electrocuted and was crazy, but was very happy that we were Muslims. That was fun, if a bit odd. The train itself was pretty good compared to a lot of transportation we have used on this trip. It was easy enough to get to Samarkand. Once at the station we hopped in a taxi and made our way to a beautiful guesthouse called Antika. There was a large open courtyard with grapes, apples and other fruit growing on a canopy over some tables. We dropped our things off and head out to get some more cash. Walking around, the city had a different feel than Tashkent. Just down the lane from the guest house was an amazing mausoleum and plenty of restored historical buildings. It was great to see that the buildings are restored, but mostly they no longer serve the intended purpose. In that way there is a disconnect between people and history. It's sad to see at times, but it is amazing to see the crafts and arts kept alive. The quality of wood work, tiles, architecture, miniature paintings etc. Uzbekistan has so many souvenir shops, many in these amazing historical buildings, but the good part of it is the quality of items sold there.After much wandering and getting lost, we made our way home and got some sleep.

Yongiabad Bazaar

 

 

The next day we decided to head out to a flea market called Yongiabad Bazaar with a friend we made at the hostel from Switzerland, named Simone. He'd been traveling for a while and was in the final days of the current trip also. We grabbed a bus to a tram to some walking, to some confusion, to another bus and finally reached the market. We were first greeted by some friendly militsiya (police) who introduced us to some more militsiya. They took a while, and we asked if there was a problem and they realized there was not and let us move on. The market itself was full of all kinds of..well junk and a few other things here and there. Machine parts, clothes, animals, books, old cameras, decorations and all kinds of random second hand stuff. We explored for a while, before heading across town to Khost Imom, where there is a mosque called Telyashayakh Mosque, and the Moyie Mubarek Library Museum (housing one of the oldest Qurans in the world). The architecture around there was amazing, but it was all empty. A guard said he would let us in to see the Quran in the museum, but demanded a bunch of money for it. They even called some kind of caretaker there, who offered to take us, but wanted a bunch of money. We agreed to pay them if there was a physical ticket. There was none, so we walked out. There was a mausoleum in the back that still seemed to be used for the intended purpose. After looking around a bit more walked down to Chorsu Bazaar and grabbed some food. There was an upper, open level in a building at the bazaar with all kinds of food vendors. One area in it was an open room with tables, and outside it there was a man grilling shashlyk. We picked up some vegetables to go with the shashlyk and asked if he could grill them. He could not. So I went inside the dining area, asked for a knife and started chopping vegetables. A lady who worked there saw this and offered to chop them for me.

Simone and Omar returned with some soda and nan. The lady returned with a beautifully chopped and seasoned salad. After lunch we walked down the street to a fast food place to just sit and drink some coffee etc. The place was like a nicer version of an American fast food place. From there we caught the metro, with Simone leaving for a Central Asian film festival and Omar and I heading back to the guest house. We got back and hung out downstairs, playing some music and talking to the security guy named Alex and another traveller named Murat. We didn't share much language between us, but it was pretty amazing to watch Omar tirelessly communicate until after a few songs they themselves were making huge efforts to explain simple things across the language barrier. I was tired and mostly just sat back and watched as Omar learned some more words to a Russian song his friend Constantine used to play.

It was really interesting watching Murat and Alex go from being very quiet, to gesturing and using bits of words to explain the deeper meaning of the song and its pronounciation and how it was sang.

A few hours later Simone returned and told us about his experience at the festival. First he had to convince the ticket seller that this film existed. Then he got the ticket and had to convince the theatre person that it existed, before finally being led to an empty theatre. He convinced the projectionist that yes he did want to see the film even though he was the only one there and that though he did not understand the language he still wanted to watch. Half an hour through the film, the projectionist came down to see if Simone was still awake and asked if he really wanted to watch the whole thing. Simone did, but the rickety dvd started skipping and after many failed attempts he had to stop without ever finding out how this coming of age Soviet era story ended. He told us that the projectionist was a strong communist supporter, who had been in that job for over 30 years. He walked Simone to the metro, giving him advice on where he should go and what not to miss in Tashkent. After all that bizarreness it was time to sleep.

Tashkent Day 2

So we went out again, finally got a little cash, ate some food at last (thankful for the complimentary breakfast at the hostel) and all of that in a day. We had a longer meeting with our friends in the metro as well as many other chats along the way. In fact, by the time we were riding back towards the hostel, we actually recognized some of the new friends in uniform we had met during the day. We went to an internet cafe and then decided to call it a day, early around 7pm, because it gets a bit tiring being always being careful not to photograph any kind of security buildings..especially when you don't read Russian. That's why there aren't that many pictures.

How do I get cash in Tashkent?!

Andy, Omar and I grabbed some food, while Mike stayed to let us back in. We shared a final breakfast together at Andy's friend's kitchen table before Omar and I jumped in a taxi and head to the airport. I packed away my camera stuff because of all the strict regulations and not wanting any trouble. We got there early, hung out for a while, then flew out on a quick hour long flight to Tashkent. Once in the country, we saw many Pakistanis at the airport, arriving on a flight from Lahore. Once through customs, we hopped in a cab after negotiating a price. The guy thought it was funny to try and double it on the way. I opened the door and threatened to get out, and he quietened a little. We got to the place and he did try one final time to squeeze some extra money out of us. I just handed him what we had agreed and left it at that.

The hostel owner greeted Omar and I with some Urdu. Unfortunately, after the usual Muslim jokes, all he could muster was a lot of cursing, asking if we wanted to do all kinds of idiotic things that we had no interest in as some kind of a joke. It is a pleasure to be looked down upon for your race and the unfounded (as in equally applicable to anyone else) prejudices linked by people to it. Even better to hear all kinds of dirty talk from some old drunk guy with a daughter and wife who should know better. Luckily, the place was comfortable, clean and cheap. On top of that the wife and daughter are very nice and seem to run the place, while the guy just sits around with his old buddies getting drunk all day. All in all, one of the better places we have stayed at.

From there we set out to find an ATM. 8 hours of walking from one to the next and finding them all empty all over town, exhausted us physically and mentally. The saving grace was the kindness of people. Seriously, we have met so many wonderful people on this trip, but the way people tried to help us out here in Tashkent is really amazing. For every annoying jerk we meet, there are tons more warm people who go out of their way to help us, and that I think is the lesson to learn from.

I had limited cash that I exchanged from the airport, but didn't want to run out, so we just walked and walked. Along the way, we met bank staff who called around to help point the way. This is apparently a big problem in Uzbekistan. The currency is valued at about 1,329 Uzbek Som to 1 US dollar, so people have wads of cash, but very little money. That and the fact that atms are almost immediatly emptied makes it very hard to get cash.

At one bank, we met a wonderful lady who walked us up to an office where we met a kind man who had learned English as he said from John Lennon and Mick Jagger. I knew he was cool even before he handed us cookies when we asked for a business card and he had run out.

It is a treat to meet such great people, with so much charm and charisma. Even though we felt miserable, hungry and exhausted at trying so hard to find cash and failing, the city is beautiful with mosaics along the sides of buildings, and amazing architecture all over and more kindness from everyday people than we have run across before, and most of the other cities were very generous and kind also.

The metros are absolutely amazing. Each terminal has a unique design. One had amazing paintings of cosmonauts and the space program. Others had beautiful tiles, or vaulted ceilings with flower designs, or sculptures in the walls etc.

Unfortunately we could not photograph any of these. Each metro station is a work of art.Along the way we were stopped for our papers many many many times, but at least they were friendly and polite. Still after a while it does make a person feel like some kind of criminal, and what felt like harmless looks by people before starts to feel less so. It's not a new situation, but it was fun in Xinjiang, China to not feel like that, at least part of the time we were there.

How to go from Bishkek to Tashkent

Happy Independence day Pakistan! So, what did I do to celebrate? Well...I got a mean headache, and felt real weak. I felt so exhausted, I could not even think about doing the drive from Bishkek to Osh, stay the night, then hire another car to the border of Uzbekistan and another on the opposite side to Tashkent. I felt like I had been on far too many rides, haggling and being cheated or worrying about what some jerk keeps in his car door or worse passenger door to make it look like it is ours or who decides to throw stuff through the window at night. So, Omar and I decided to just fly to Bishkek for about $150 more.

This is a vacation after all. We spent the day figuring out the logistics of all our travel plans, then bought or changed tickets. The four of us were exhausted as we shared a final dinner together on this trip at a place called NY Pizza. The pizza was very good and we were all grateful that we had each other to make this trip possible. I went to bed early that night.